Every time someone sends out one of those jokes about old age I cringe a little inside. I have no love for jokes about body parts sagging; dragging; bagging or forgetting your own name. These things could all come true in time and it's an ongoing battle to hold the ravages of time off as long as possible. I am committed to the fight and I think some of my friends have thrown in the towel already!How distressing is it for an age fighting person such as myself, to hear some of her dearest friends refer to themselves as OLD??!! Some of them that cry "I'm old" the loudest and the most frequently are younger than me! And judging by some of the class reunions I've attended, a lot of them willingly gave up caring what they look like when 30 rolled around. And always they use the catch phrases....It's all over when you hit thirty....you're on your way down the hill now.....I'm too old for that now...older than dirt...etc. The list is never ending. How many years have I been hearing friends only a year or two older than me, call me 'kid'! There's a reason for that...I don't 'act my age' and I don't intend to ever!
Now, having spouted all that drama at you I have had some thoughts about what kind of little old lady I will be some day. I'm fully aware that you can't fight it forever...eventually time (and body aches) will catch up with you. This is a wee tirade I went on (in jest only of course) at a friend after taking one of those 'how long will you live' tests and getting the results of 102! Please no!
First of all I don’t want to be the last one standing! I don't want to out live all my friends or family members. There is no honor in being the last one when you’re wearing a diaper and trying to decide if you’ll need your teeth for the dog food you’re having for breakfast. And with my luck I will only be able to have one small dog…and I won’t be able to find where it pees in the house (because they always do!) due to being virtually blind so no one who is still alive will come and visit my pissy smelling house!
And I’m bound to have my driver’s license taken away at some point..after running over the neighborhood kids on the sidewalk and parking in the swamp behind my house, which was created by me running the car through the neighbors pool (thinking I was at the car wash) the week before. Oh yeah, I’m going to be lonely that’s for sure!
Even meals on wheels won’t come to the house, after the shotgun incident that caused accidental ear piercing on the driver; which will occurred as a result of my insistence that a home invasion is always preempted by the ringing of the front doorbell! (everyone knows the back door is for safe entry, right?!) Doorbells are suspect in my mind to begin with because ”hooligans” use them to distract you from what they are really doing at the back door of course.
And I’m quite sure the mailman won’t deliver mail either, seeing as how he believes the signs on my lawn indicating there may be landmines on the property and to proceed at your own risk; which becomes even more believable when you see red x’s spray painted on the lawn to indicated where the mines “could be”. And the bones of various previously eaten animals strewn strategically on the grass only intensifies the fear that if the landmines don’t kill you, you could end up dying slowly wherever you land after your encounter with the bomb; because of course you can’t expect an old, blind lady to come out and drag your carcass out of danger. But she may use you as a speed bump if you call attention to yourself!
And if only a fraction of this comes true, you don't want me becoming an old lady now do you? :)
